


Poetry Lessons

by dragonQuill907



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Arthur's kind of a dick, F/M, High School AU, M/M, Morgana's a lesbian, Poetry, because she can be, but he's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7957999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonQuill907/pseuds/dragonQuill907
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's having a lot of problems with this poetry unit in English class. Luckily, Merlin's there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> An unbeta'd Merthur fic nobody asked for

“Do you actually like that stuff?”

Arthur looked up from his book and met Morgana’s gaze.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know why you’re reading… _One Hundred and One Famous Poems,_ ” Morgana replied, dragging the Arthur’s chair out from under his desk. “You never read poetry. Or anything, for that matter.”

Yes, Arthur Pendragon was reading a book of poetry. They were going through a unit on it in his English class. Most of the girls absolutely loved everything about it. They’d come into class with their favorite love poems, ready to recite them in front of everybody. Their teacher had even given them extra credit. Arthur, like most of the boys, was convinced the whole thing was useless - only worthwhile when you were trying to get a girl to notice you, which was, to be perfectly honest, exactly what Arthur was doing, but he wasn’t about to let Morgana know that. Especially not when the girl he was trying to impress was her best friend.

“Homework,” Arthur explained.

It wasn’t entirely a lie, the blond thought. He was reviewing some of the poems Mr. Kilgharrah had insisted they be familiar with. He just happened to be reading the other ones, as well - as much as he hated it.

“Sure, and I’ve suddenly decided that I’m not into girls after all,” Morgana mused as she wrapped her dark hair in a bun and tied it off messily on top of her head. “We finished that poetry stuff weeks ago.”

“You’re in honors literature; I am not. You know this,” Arthur sighed, closing the book. “You don’t have to keep reminding me of how much smarter you are.”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” Morgana commented, smirking.

“What’s the big deal?” Arthur demanded. “Is it a crime to read a book of poetry in the privacy of my own bedroom? To study like the B-plus student I am?”

“Well, if you’re so bent on studying, maybe I should help you,” Morgana said. “I could tutor you, you know. I’m already ahead of you. Curriculum-wise, of course.”

“Why would you want to spend _more_ time with me?” Arthur retorted.

“Fine,” Morgana huffed. “Don’t appreciate me. See where it gets you.”

Morgana rolled her eyes and left Arthur’s bedroom, leaving his desk chair in the middle of the room. Arthur opened his book again, struggling to understand the poet’s words.

Although he was usually great at English, Arthur was struggling with this topic in particular. He didn’t understand poems - or poets, for that matter. He didn’t get why people loved poetry so much, anyway. It was just a bunch of words on paper that talked about nothing for two or three paragraphs before ending, leaving him more confused than when he started. Sometimes, it didn’t even rhyme.

Arthur Pendragon was _not_ stupid; he just couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept of poetry in general. He needed to figure it out soon, though, since the test was only two weeks from now. He thought about all the girls who were going to ace the test, and he thought about all the boys who would fail along with him.

That was where the girl was going to come in. He liked Gwen. He really did. She had curly brown hair and matching eyes. Her skin was dark and smooth like caramel, and she had the most disarming smile. For some reason, she was friends with Morgana, which would have been annoying except for the fact that it meant she was often in Arthur’s home.

Gwen also really loved poetry.

If Arthur needed a tutor, he thought, who better than Gwen to help him?

~*~

The next morning, Arthur made sure to brush his teeth extra well. He showered quickly and ran his hands through his hair, trying his best to make himself presentable. When it was time for his fourth period class, Arthur braced himself before walking through the door. He scanned the room for even a hint of Gwen’s dark curls before slipping into his own desk. She was always in just before the bell rang, anyway, and today was no different.

Arthur bounced his leg throughout the entire class period, watching Gwen out of the corner of his eye. She listened attentively to Mr. Kilgharrah’s lecture, jotting down notes every now and then. Arthur thought that perhaps he should be doing the same, but he opted for continuing to stare at the object of his affections. It turned out to be a mistake.

“Mr. Pendragon,” the gruff teacher called, “am I boring you?”

Arthur felt his face turn pink. “Not at all, sir,” he said.

Kilgharrah nodded once before continuing the lesson, and, thankfully, the bell for lunch sounded fifteen minutes later.

Arthur swallowed nervously as Gwen made her way to his desk just as he was packing away his books.

“Hi, Arthur,” she said, smiling sweetly. Arthur grinned down at her in return.

“Hey,” he replied. “Um, good lesson today, yeah?”

Gwen chuckled and shook her head. “For me, yes. I don’t know about you, though.”

Arthur shrugged. “I’m usually not this confused,” he admitted, a small smile still playing at his lips. “English is my best subject, but… Poetry’s just not for me.”

The smiling girl nodded. “Morgana told me this morning. She said you turned down her offer to tutor you.”

Arthur nodded back, silently cursing his sister and her big mouth.

“Yeah,” he said finally, shrugging once more. “Don’t think I’d learn much if Morgana was tutoring me.”

“I can imagine,” Gwen replied as they left the room. “I was thinking I could help you.” Arthur’s heart soared but plummeted as she spoke her next words. “I mean, not me personally, of course! My friend Merlin got top marks on his poetry unit exam. Bothered Morgana to no end. Anyway, he wouldn’t shut up about it. He basically taught me before we started going over it in class. I’d be hopeless without him, really. You know Merlin, right?”

Arthur nodded, crestfallen. He did indeed know Merlin Emrys, but only in passing. The blond knew how Morgana competed with him academically, how their relationship was composed of nothing other than grudging respect. Merlin was one of the smartest students in Albion Academy. Morgana was the other.

Of course, there was more to Merlin Emrys than just his brain, Arthur supposed. Merlin was taller than half the boys in their year, and he had blue eyes a few shades lighter than Arthur’s and dark locks that didn’t quite cover the way his ears stuck out the smallest bit. It was no secret that the boy had countless girls chase after him, but Arthur hadn’t heard of him ever having a girlfriend. He must’ve been like Morgana, then, choosing to focus on schoolwork instead of being distracted by dating.

Arthur didn’t share the same work ethic.

“So, you’re all right with Merlin helping you out?” Gwen asked, smiling as Arthur opened his locker.

“You know, I’d hate to bother him,” the blond said, hoping beyond hope that he’d somehow get out of it. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“It’s really no trouble at all!” Gwen insisted. “Merlin’s always happy to help.”

Arthur nodded. How could he say no without seeming like an arse?

“Yeah,” Arthur said, feigning enthusiasm. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

~*~

Arthur didn’t expect to see Merlin so soon after his conversation with Gwen, but he really should’ve. The other boy appeared in the middle of lunch, holding a stack of books and fidgeting nervously at the end of their table. Across from Arthur, Gwaine kept chattering on to Percival about the birds and blokes he was chasing, but Leon and Arthur stared at the intruder openly.

“Uh, hello,” Merlin greeted quietly. “Gwen and Morgana said you might not quite get everything in literature? I’m, uh, supposed to offer help, I guess, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Arthur paused, his mouth open slightly. He flicked his eyes towards Gwaine and Percival, but neither of them seemed to have heard anything. Valiant, who sat on the other end of the table next to Gwaine, sneered at Merlin before returning to his lunch. Leon chuckled and shoved Arthur away from his observations, causing him to drop his sandwich on the table.

Merlin’s eyes widened in sudden realization. “Oh, hell. Was I not supposed to say that in front of everyone?”

Arthur cleared his throat. “No, you’re fine. Um, can we talk about this later?”

Merlin flushed and nodded, backing away hurriedly. “I have a free period next,” he said. “I’ll be in the library. If you wanna talk then. But you don’t have to. Of course.”

Arthur nodded slowly as Merlin slipped out of the cafeteria. He turned to Leon and shoved him back, complaining, “You ruined my lunch, you dolt!”

Leon laughed jovially, and Arthur just shook his head.

“Mate, your sandwich was shite anyway,” the other boy joked. “More importantly, you’ve got a date next period with a certain poetry fanatic. What’s that all about?”

Gwaine, who had looked up as soon as Leon uttered the word ‘date,’ grinned from ear to ear.

“You finally asked her out?” he exclaimed, the look on his face turning nearly feral. “That’s bloody fantastic! I’ve heard Lancelot’s got his eye on her as well,” he claimed. “Good thing you got to her first, yeah?”

Percival nodded in agreement. “Good on you, mate. I know you really like her.”

Arthur scowled at his friends, wondering again _why_ they were his friends.

“No,” Leon simply stated.

“No?” Gwaine echoed, his entire face contorting in a look of confusion. “What do you mean, ‘no?’ That’s not even- we didn’t even ask any questions to warrant that answer.”

“Well, first off,” Arthur said, irritated, “Gwen isn’t a prize to be won. This is why you don’t have a girlfriend, Gwaine. Secondly, no, I didn’t ask Gwen out yet. Thirdly, that was nothing.”

Leon shook his head. “Nope, that was definitely something. A thing just definitely happened, mate, and you can’t deny the thing.”

“That makes no sense,” Arthur grumbled. “You make no sense, like, ever.”

The boy next to him just grinned. “Come on, Arthur. Why’d Merlin come over here and ask you to meet him in the library next period?”

Gwaine laughed raucously, and Arthur shook his head for what felt like the hundredth time. How the rowdy brunet ever managed to become best friends with stoic Percival was beyond Arthur. He didn’t even want to know, really.

“Being bi doesn’t mean you get a boyfriend _and_ a girlfriend, you know,” Gwaine guffawed, shoving Percival’s shoulder. “Elsewise you’d never see _me_ again.”

“Merlin is _not_ my boyfriend,” Arthur protested immediately. “My plan was to have Gwen tutor me in this poetry crap, but she said she’s only good at it because Merlin helped her out. So she and Morgana conspired against me-”

“Like usual,” Gwaine scoffed.

Arthur glared. “She and Morgana conspired against me, and now Merlin’s my tutor.”

The three boys nodded sympathetically.

“It might not be that bad,” Percival said finally. “Merlin’s nice. You’ll still be able to impress Gwen with your knowledge of poetry once you’re done with the tutoring, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Arthur sighed. “Thanks, Percy.”

“Anytime,” said the other blond replied. “Just be careful, yeah? Her older brother’s on the rugby team, and he could probably kick your football-playing arse.”

Arthur closed his eyes as the other boys cackled. “Yeah, thanks, Percy.”

~*~

Arthur walked into the library uncertainly, his eyes scanning the room for Merlin’s ever-present scarf or tattered messenger bag. He hesitated as his search failed, gripping his backpack tightly. Just as he was about to turn and leave, Arthur caught a flash of red in her corner of his eye, and he moved towards it without thinking. Merlin sat at a table near the back of the room, one surrounded on three sides by a wall or bookshelves. It was a peaceful little space, Arthur supposed, but maybe one too private for what they were doing. It was only studying.

The blond placed his books on the table across from Merlin, startling the other boy out of his trace. Merlin smiled shyly and took out his earbuds, packing them and his phone away before turning to Arthur again.

“Hi,” he greeted, drumming his fingers on the wooden table. “Gwen and Morgana said-”

“I know,” Arthur interrupted. He smiled, but he figured it looked like more of a grimace than anything else. “You don't have to make time for me. It's fine. I'm fine.”

Merlin frowned. “If you're confused or something, I'm not opposed to clearing some things up.”

“Look, I'm not stupid, all right?” Arthur retorted. “Poetry is.”

Merlin’s frown twisted into a soft smile.

“So, the great and wonderful football captain Arthur Pendragon doesn't want to ask for help?” he asked, grinning. “I know you’re not stupid. I didn’t say you were. The only reason I’m good at, well, _anything_ is because usually I have a hard time understanding it at first. But if you don’t want to do this, then it’s fine. It doesn’t matter to me either way.”

“All right,” Arthur replied, nodding absently. “Okay, then. Thanks, but I’m-”

“Of course, I don’t know what you’ll tell Gwen when she asks how it’s going,” Merlin cut in. “I find it’s hard for something nonexistent to be going well. Kind of like your chances with her, now that I think about it.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, and he gaped as Merlin chuckled, his eyes crinkling merrily.

“I'm only kidding,” Merlin laughed. “I'm certain she thinks you're positively dashing.”

“You're her friend, right?” Arthur asked. Merlin nodded. “All right. So, do I have a chance or not? Because the only reason I'm doing this is to impress her. Get on her good side, you know.”

“Well, yeah, we all know that,” replied Merlin. “Your sister and I aren't exactly close, but we get along because Gwen is our friend. Gwen's known about your crush on her-”

“It's not a crush,” Arthur protested, blushing when he realized how pathetic he sounded. “It’s… It just isn't.”

Merlin nodded again. “Sure. Anyway, Gwen's known about it since it began, I think. You're not subtle.”

Arthur shook his head, thinking back to how fidgety Merlin had been when he'd approached their lunch table. Where was _that_ Merlin? Arthur thought he would appreciate nervous Merlin more than the know-it-all version.

“Why were you so uncomfortable when you were talking to me at lunch?” Arthur asked, suddenly more curious than offended.

Merlin blushed and ducked his head, and Arthur counted that as a personal victory.

“The football team and I don't have the best track record,” he said simply. “Valiant in particular doesn't seem to like me very much.”

Arthur considered that for a moment, frowning.

“What do you mean by ‘not the best track record?’” he asked.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Maybe you _are_ stupid.”

Arthur scoffed. “Unlikely.”

The boys were silent for a short time, neither of them looking at the other. Well, that was a lie. Arthur could feel Merlin’s eyes on him, following the motion of the blond’s fingers drumming against the table.

“So, are we doing this or not?” the brunet suddenly asked, nodding towards Arthur's books.

Arthur considered his options for a moment, caught between saying no - which also meant losing Gwen's respect and failing his next quiz - or accepting Merlin’s offer and spend an extra hour at school a few days a week, keeping his good standing with Gwen intact.

It wasn't really a tough choice, was it?

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed as the passing period bells rang. The blond grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, and when he looked up, Merlin was gone.

~*~

Arthur got through the rest of his day without incident, going through the motions and barely feeling anything under than disgust for his fellow students. He saw Gwen in the hallway a few times and smiled softly at her: she waved and nodded back. She was in his honors world history class at the end of the day, but Merlin also shared that class with them, and it seemed that she preferred his company over Arthur’s.

It wasn’t as if Arthur was offended by this. It’d been a simple fact throughout the year that Merlin and Gwen were good friends; Arthur was simply Gwen’s best friend’s brother, and he had been since he was fourteen years old. Three years of being ignored by Gwen made it easy to dismissed the jealousy that sparked at the sight of her laughing along with Merlin about something Arthur hadn’t heard. The same thing had been happening with Morgana - who had the class earlier in the day, thank God - for years, and most of the time, they were laughing at Arthur.

At least _this_ was an improvement. Well, he hoped. They could be laughing at him. What if they were laughing at him?

_It’s hard for something nonexistent to be going well._

Arthur frowned at the memory of Merlin’s words. Who worded an insult like that, anyway? Whatever. It was fine. Everything was fine, and class only lasted for eight more minutes.

Arthur began to chew the tip of his pen as he felt the seconds tick by slowly. History was one subject Arthur had always enjoyed, but the substitute teacher was clueless about the Egyptians, and Arthur just hadn’t been able to get into the lesson. Perhaps that was his issue with poetry. He couldn’t care less about it, really.

That wasn’t the first time Arthur’s lack of enthusiasm landed him somewhere he didn’t want to be, and, if he were to be honest with himself, it probably wouldn’t be the last.

The dismissal bell had barely rung before Arthur was out the door, stalking towards his locker single-mindedly. He had made it halfway down the hall before he heard frantic footsteps trailing after him.

“Arthur! Hey!” called a boy’s voice, and the blond was unsurprised to find Merlin trotting clumsily after him. The brunet beamed. “Arthur! Hi. Hello. Hey.”

“Yes, hello, Merlin,” Arthur greeted, shaking his head minutely. “What is it?”

Merlin’s face fell for a moment, but it returned to its previous joyful state almost immediately.

“Hi. We never agreed on a time or place,” the other boy said, his face flushing slightly. “I think- Well, I mean, any day is good for me since I never really do anything, but I was thinking maybe Tuesdays and Thursdays? The poetry unit test is… next Friday, right?”

Arthur nodded as the pair walked down the stairs. “Yeah. After school or after lunch?”

“Either,” Merlin replied immediately. “I’m in the library after lunch, but I walk home anyway, so it doesn’t matter what time I stay ‘til. So after school’s good, too.”

“All right,” Arthur said. “That’s good, but I have football practice straight after school Monday through Thursday, and I’m not staying after on a Friday. And I’d rather not do it _during_ school since that’s usually when I do last-minute homework.”

Merlin frowned as he followed Arthur to his locker. “So, you can’t meet me anytime? Why’d you even agree to this if you don’t want to do it?”

Arthur cut Merlin off with a sigh, running a careless hand through his hair.

“Sorry, sorry,” the blond apologized “How about Tuesdays and Thursdays, then? After lunch.”

“So… what I said,” Merlin replied, furrowing his brows. Arthur nodded, and the brunet rolled his eyes. “You’re so difficult.”

Arthur shook his head again. _“I’m_ difficult?”

Merlin nodded. “I haven’t done anything to _you_ so far.”

“And what’ve I done to you?”

“Literally nothing except waste my time,” Merlin replied. “Now that we know what we’re doing, it should be fine. See you tomorrow!”

Mouth open, Arthur watched Merlin walk away, his shoulders caved in and his head down. Considering how tall the boy was, Merlin looked much smaller than he had any right to be.

~*~

~*~

The majority of their first tutoring session had been stilted and awkward, and Arthur had hated it. He felt stupid asking questions and hated that he felt that way, so the boys sat in awful silence for the first fifteen minutes of their free period. It would have been different had Merlin and Arthur been friends or even had something in common, but Arthur couldn’t find a single thing. Of course, he admired Merlin for various reasons, but that was something one didn’t casually _tell_ a near-stranger.

The worst part of it all was that Arthur could tell that Merlin had hated it too. It was a good thing Merlin was - surprisingly - talkative; he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for more than twenty minutes. Which, Arthur supposed, wasn’t all that talkative to begin with. But, boy, when Merlin got to talking, he _really_ got to talking. When the bell rang, cutting the brunet off in the middle of a sentence, Arthur felt as if he knew more about Merlin than he did about Leon, and they’d practically grown up together.

Arthur had spent the rest of the day as he usually did, wandering from class to class in the hopes of seeing Gwen. He saw Merlin in the hallway once and smiled, and the other boy grinned in return, his eyes crinkling. At the end of the school day, Arthur met Merlin at the brunet’s locker and handed him a scrap piece of paper, explaining that the two of them really should have a way to contact each other should something come up or go awry. Merlin’s sharp cheekbones turned slightly pink as he happily agreed.

Arthur had, admittedly, forgotten about giving Merlin his number until an unknown number popped up on his mobile phone.

 

21st March is world poetry day. Thought you might want to know.

 

Oh, and it’s Merlin, by the way.

 

_On the calendar it goes. 21st March_

 

Don’t be a prat.

 

_All right, all right_

 

So I was thinking. We didn’t get a lot done today. First we were quiet and awkward, and then I talked your ear off until the bell rang. Sorry about that.

 

_It’s fine. I’ll do anything to get out of reading poetry_

 

Hahaha. There’s your problem. So I was thinking that maybe we should meet up one more time this week?

 

_That sounds fine to me. Thursday and Friday? I’ll give you a break tomorrow_

 

Sounds perfect. I’ll see you around.

 

_Bye, Merlin_

~*~

Their second meeting had begun much more relaxed than the first. They kept mostly to themselves, but it was no question that they were doing more than just sharing a table.

Whenever he wasn’t barraging Arthur with questions, Merlin had his eyes on his homework or his nose in a book. It was rather endearing, Arthur thought, the way the pale boy’s ears were the only thing visible when he was really engrossed in whatever he was reading. The blond would struggle through his homework whilst struggling not to ogle Merlin - too openly, anyway. He had to focus on winning Gwen’s heart, and, anyway, what harm was a little appreciation between friends? That’s what they were, weren’t they?

Arthur had left the second session feeling marginally more comfortable with the subject than before. He also left with homework he claimed he wasn’t going to bother with.

“Really, Merlin?” Arthur had laughed laughed. “You know you’re not really a teacher, right?”

Merlin had shrugged casually, not very perturbed at all. “I’m gonna be. Eventually.”

Arthur had nodded then, mulling over this new thing he’d learned about Merlin Emrys. He’d began his “homework” from Merlin before any of the actual work assigned by his teachers, not caring that it probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

~*~

_Merlin, this poem is boring me. Why’d you have me read it in the first place?_

 

Edgar Allen Poe is a GREAT poet. A fantastic one, actually. How dare you criticize his masterful work?

 

_It’s too long to be of any use. We’re not even studying him in class_

 

H lit did, so you are, too.

 

_I’m not IN h lit, you dolt!_

 

Think of how much smarter than the other students you’ll be!

 

_I just want to pass the test, Merlin_

 

Fine! Try Robert Frost instead. Your tiny brain should be able to understand it.

 

_I’m taking your suggestion, but don’t think I’m not horrendously offended_

 

I recommend ‘Fire and Ice.’ And ‘Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening.’

 

_I’ll look them up now_

 

Tell me how you like them tomorrow. Don’t forget to read ‘Richard Cory.’

 

_I’m not an idiot, Merlin_

 

You could’ve fooled me.

 

_You arse!_

 

Clotpole.

 

_That’s not a word_

 

Yes it is.

 

_No it’s not!_

 

Fine. Then you’re a dollophead. The biggest of them all.

 

_Define dollophead._

 

In two words?

 

_Sure_

 

Prince Arthur.

 

_I know it must seem like it, what with my charming personality and dashing good looks, but I’m not actually a prince_

 

You act like one.

 

_How?_

 

Merlin, explain these poems. Merlin, don’t be stupid. Merlin, help me with my homework. Merlin, read this poem to me. Merlin, take time out of your day to help me out of the goodness of your own heart. Merlin, do this. Merlin, do that.

 

You still there?

 

_… I don’t do that. Do I?_

 

Not really. I was being funny.

 

_Funny doesn’t suit you, Merlin. Better tell your ears_

 

I happen to LIKE my ears, thank you very much!

 

_So do I. It was a joke._

 

Oh.

 

Tell me how you like those poems.

 

_Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow after lunch_

 

Until tomorrow, dollophead.

~*~

“You understand _Richard Cory,_ right?” asked Merlin, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the boy seated across from him. “Of course I do,” he replied finally.

Merlin raised a dark eyebrow. “You’re the one who claimed to need tutoring. I’m merely trying to do my job.”

“You’re doing it horribly,” Arthur snapped, grinning to show he didn’t really mean it. “I think it’s fairly obvious what Robinson’s saying. Don’t you?”

“Of course I do, _Prince_ Arthur,” Merlin replied, cheerily using the nickname he’d thought up the night before. “Only the best for your royal arse.”

“I’m not that much of a prick,” Arthur protested, frowning slightly. “People usually find me quite delightful, you know.”

Merlin shook his head, opening Arthur’s folder and flipping through the papers. “I doubt that,” he said. “You’re much too arrogant and self-righteous.”

“What have I done to deserve a friend like you?” Arthur questioned. “I come to you for help, yet all I receive are these horrible insults. I can’t believe it.”

Arthur’s smirk disappeared as Merlin’s smile faltered. The blond narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Merlin simply continued searching through Arthur’s folder until he ripped it from the other boy’s lithe hands.

“What was that for?” Merlin whined, pouting. Arthur nearly smiled back.

“What was _that_ for?” Arthur retorted. “Your little look. You went all… forlorn. What was that for?”

Merlin scoffed. “Nice vocabulary. Anyway, I’m fine. We’re looking over _The Outcasts_ now. If you’d let me find it, that is. You’ll like it. The author’s got your name.”

Arthur closed his folder with a decisive flick of his wrist. “We are friends, aren’t we, Merlin?”

The other boy bit the inside of his cheek again. “It’s been, like, three days.”

Arthur shrugged. “So? I’ve made friends in less time.”

Merlin cocked his head. “It’s a wonder how you ever managed that, considering what a dollophead you are.”

“That’s still not a word, you know,” the blond protested.

“It definitely is,” Merlin argued back. “Which one of us is in honors literature again?”

“That hardly makes you a wordsmith,” Arthur replied with an eye roll.

Merlin smiled and nodded towards the folder in Arthur’s hands. “We were going to read _The Outcasts_ next,” he said pointedly.

“Yes, yes. Very well, Merlin.”

“You’ll like it,” Merlin said again. “You like everything that’s about you, so I figured Arthur Conan Doyle might peak your interest.”

Arthur only shrugged in response.

“Go ahead,” he prodded, leaning back in his chair as Merlin scoffed.

“This is ridiculous,” the brunet complained before clearing his throat. Arthur let his eyes fall shut as Merlin began to read the poem. Merlin had a nice voice; Arthur had decided that ages ago. It was soft and sweet and sharp, with the hint of a generally pleasant, calming Irish lilt. It was quite peaceful listening to Merlin talk, so Arthur had never felt the need to stop him.

“So, the godly man had the devil on his back,” Arthur said once Merlin had quieted. “And the outcasts were on the side of the angels. It’s all very symbolic and beautiful and useless when you think about it.”

Merlin smirked and shook his head. “That’s your problem, you prat. We’ve got to find a poem you like!”

“All right, then. I’ll do that over the weekend, bring it to you on Tuesday.”

“Sounds good to me.” Merlin’s smile faded as he looked at the clock. “Almost time to go,” he said quietly.

Arthur pursed his lips. “Yeah. Um, I guess I’ll see you on Tuesday?”

Merlin rolled his eyes as the bell rang. “Don’t be dumb. You’ll see me before then.”

“That’s good,” Arthur blurted before he could stop himself. He blushed, realizing belatedly that Merlin was doing the same. “Um, see ya.”

“Bye,” the other boy replied, turning away and very nearly bolting out of the library.

Arthur frowned at the disappointment gathering in his chest, hoping unreasonably that Merlin was right.

~*~

“It’s Gwen’s birthday next week,” Morgana said in lieu of proper greeting as she barged into Arthur’s room. “Uther’s letting me throw her a surprise party here. Get up and invite your stupid friends over.” Arthur groaned and pulled his covers over his head, hoping to drive away his half-sister, but his efforts were in vain. “Get up, you idiot! Invite your friends. Gwen thinks they’re… funny.”

Arthur grunted noncommittally and rolled over. Morgana scoffed and slammed his door shut, causing the blond to jolt out of bed and onto the floor.

“Buggering _shite,_ Morgana!” Arthur cried, rubbing his shoulder. He stood unsteadily and made his way to the shower. Afterwards, he dressed quickly, not caring much what he ended up wearing. When he got back to his room, he unplugged his phone and texted Leon, Percival, and Gwaine - in that order. He opened his messages to Merlin, biting his lip nervously.

Merlin would be there anyway, wouldn’t he? He and Gwen were already friends, so it was safe to assume that Merlin would be there at Gwen’s party. In Arthur’s house. Today.

Arthur looked down at his clothes, suddenly aware that he had thrown on what was _definitely_ not his best shirt. He also realized that he _definitely_ had to change.

Around two hours later (Arthur had always had a bad habit of sleeping until noon on the weekends), the first guests started to arrive. Lancelot showed up twenty minutes before Morgana had specified, offering to help hang streamers and blow up balloons. Arthur shot him a halfhearted glare as he stepped inside, but he couldn’t find it within himself to hate the well-mannered boy.

“Is Mr. Pendragon home?” Lancelot asked as he placed his gift on the dining room table.

“Not often,” Arthur muttered, taping a happy birthday banner to the wall.

“Uther’s always working,” Morgana replied, shrugging casually. Even though she had resided with Uther and Arthur for nearly eight years, the girl had never caught on to calling her father by anything other than his first name. “He knows that we’re not teenagers to throw wild house parties. He’s fine with our little get-together as long as it doesn’t get out of hand.”

“Not like you care,” Arthur laughed. “You’re not throwing a house party because you don’t have enough friends.” Morgana scowled as her brother continued speaking. “You take any and every chance to rebel because you know you never have to face any consequences.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is!”

Morgana shook her head and tried to push Arthur off the chair he’d used to tack up the banner. The blond hopped off before she could touch him, laughing at the grievously offended look on her face.

“Get away from me, you harpy!” Arthur cackled. “Go hang some more streamers or something _useful.”_

Morgana scowled again before sauntering off into the sitting room, Lancelot trailing along at her heels.

Freya and Merlin were next to arrive, each holding a brightly-wrapped gift and a bag of something to eat. Arthur grinned as Merlin walked in, taking the food from both him and Freya and setting it on the table immediately.

“Hey, Arthur,” Merlin greeted, smiling. “For some reason I’m surprised you’re here, even though, you know, it’s your house.”

Arthur shrugged. “I only found out about the party this morning.”

Morgana, who was passing by with bowls of crisps, scoffed and interjected, “Please, Arthur, be honest. It was afternoon by the time you were awake. And tell your stupid friends to get here quickly.”

Arthur shot a glare at his sister before turning back to Merlin, whose smile lit up his face like Christmas.

“I love Gwen half to death, but this party starts too early for me too,” the brunet said happily. “I’d rather be nocturnal, to be quite honest.”

Arthur’s smile faltered as Freya dragged Merlin into the sitting room by the end of his ever-present red scarf.

Percival arrived next, along with Leon and Gwaine. Morgana had put them in charge of picking up a cake from the bakery three blocks from Uther’s house, and, thankfully, Leon had kept it safe from Gwaine’s greedy fingers. Arthur showed Leon the spot in the fridge he’d cleared for the cake before making his way back to the sitting room.

Gwaine had seated himself next to Merlin and had thrown his leg over the lanky boy’s lap as he spoke. Merlin was grinning from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically as Gwaine no doubt recounted one of his various adventures. Arthur was still not entirely sure everything Gwaine spoke of was the truth.

Arthur had just thrown himself in the armchair next to Gwaine when Morgana rushed into the room.

“Elyan says he and Gwen are on their way,” she said. “They’ll be here soon. Get ready!”

Arthur reluctantly peeled himself off his chair and crouched behind it. Something hot and unpleasant settled in his stomach as Gwaine sidled up to Merlin, grinning at him impishly as they crouched behind the sofa.

The doorbell rang, and Morgana led Gwen and Elyan into the sitting room. Arthur and the rest of the teenagers in the house all stood and shouted, “Surprise!” Some - namely Merlin, Gwaine, and Morgana - were more enthusiastic than others, but Gwen was overjoyed nonetheless.

Arthur had several meaningless conversations with Percival and Leon that he didn’t really remember, and, after a particularly enlightening conversation about Lancelot’s many siblings, Arthur couldn’t find it in himself to dislike the boy. That’s why, he supposed, when Lancelot handed Gwen a pale pink rose and practically declared his undying love for her, Arthur didn’t really mind. In fact, it only made him more confused. He was meant to be overcome with ridiculous jealousy, wasn’t he?

He wasn’t.

Once cake had been passed around and everybody had taken their seats, they watched one of Gwen’s favorite movies. Morgana had made at least a dozen bags of popcorn for the whole party, and bowls of crisps and pretzels were being passed around with murmured thanks. Arthur had managed to snag a seat next to Merlin, his triumph momentarily disrupted when Gwaine sat on his other side. Gwen and Lancelot were sitting quite close together, and Elyan didn’t even glare at them more than the initial warning. Morgana, Percival, and Elyan were all sitting on the floor munching on various snacks; only the armchair near the sofa was left unoccupied, so that’s where Freya and Leon sat. Together.

“Sorry about Freya,” Arthur told Merlin quietly, nodding towards the pair.

Merlin shrugged disinterestedly, averting his eyes from the affectionate couple. “It’s fine. She’s liked him for a while.” The pale boy gave a small, dejected sigh before continuing. “It’s not as if she ditched me or anything. She’s gonna be absolutely insufferable now.”

Arthur smiled ruefully. He considered telling Merlin that Leon had fancied Freya for nearly half a year but ultimately decided that it would do more harm than good. He glanced at Gwen and Lancelot, who were happily snuggling on the sofa next to him. Confused, he marveled at the lack of jealousy he was experiencing.

“I think I understand,” he whispered anyway. “It kind of sucks.”

Arthur turned back to a wide-eyed Merlin.

“I’m- I’m not… I’m happy they’re together,” the boy said. “I wasn’t… I’ve never fancied Freya. She’s like my sister.”

Arthur frowned. He thought back to Merlin’s stories, deciding that, yes, at least half of them contained Freya. A good third of those only happened because the girl was present. It would make sense to assume that Merlin fancied Freya, or that they were even, well, together.

“You talk about her all the time,” the blond replied.

“Yeah, but… I’m quite gay,” Merlin said softly. “I really couldn’t be all that interested in Freya to begin with.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise as he mulled over this new information.

“I thought you knew,” Merlin continued cautiously. “I mean, everyone knows.”

“I didn’t,” Arthur replied. “Not that I have a problem with it! You don’t have to, um, worry. About that.”

Merlin nodded, and Arthur turned back to the movie, cursing himself for being so damn awkward when he was around the other boy.

~*~

That Monday at lunch, Gwaine wouldn’t stop talking about Merlin. Arthur had at least been decent and kept his time with Merlin to himself, but it seemed that Gwaine had no such inclination. He and Merlin had exchanged _numbers._ They’d talked nearly _all weekend long._ Merlin was just so _interesting_ and _smart_ and _funny._

Arthur knew all that already.

Maybe that was why he was so irrationally bothered by Gwaine’s rant about Merlin’s good qualities.

“Arthur,” Gwaine snapped, and the blond looked up from glaring at his sandwich.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Come again?”

Gwaine rolled his eyes and repeated, “Do you know if Merlin’s single? Or if he’s interested in anyone?”

Arthur barely restrained himself from gritting his teeth.

“No,” he replied, his jaw clenched. “Not a clue.”

Gwaine nodded sagely, a familiar gleam in his eye. “Thanks, mate,” he said.

Leon laughed and kicked Gwaine under the table. “Don’t be crude, Gwaine. Merlin’s actually nice.”

“My other dates have been nice!”

Percival scoffed and shook his head. “No, your other dates have all been nothing but petty and mean and only into you for a good shag, and I’m not even sure they get that.”

Gwaine’s mouth dropped open in shock, and he brought his hand up to his chest mock-offendedly.

“How dare you?” he gasped. “I am a _wonderful_ shag!”

“Okay, but Merlin’s different,” Arthur snapped. “You don’t get to chew him up and spit him out like you do with all your other conquests.”

Gwaine’s mouth closed with a sharp _click,_ and the crease between his eyebrows deepened as he stared incredulously at Arthur.

“Mate,” Leon began gently, “that was sort of uncalled for.”

Arthur laughed nervously, shaking his head. “You know what I mean, Gwaine. You date a girl or a guy for a week, shag them, and dump them the day after. You can’t do that to Merlin. He’s not meant for that. He’s too… fragile.”

The other three boys were silent, all staring at Arthur with various levels of confusion.

Gwaine spoke first. “Mate, do you fancy Merlin? Because I won’t… call him, or whatever, if you do.”

Leon nodded. “Yeah, Arthur. You know you can tell us anything, right?”

Arthur set his jaw and continued absently pushing his food around his plate. “I don’t fancy Merlin,” he finally said.

Gwaine shook his head. “You should ask him out.”

Percival nodded his agreement.

“No,” Arthur refused, frowning. “He’s not… interested. We’re only sort of friends. We don’t know each other that well, and-”

“That’s what dates are for!” exclaimed Leon. “Look at him over there with Gwen and your sister. You know, you could go over there right now and ask him out, and I bet he’d say yes.”

“I don’t fancy Merlin!” Arthur insisted angrily. He picked up his lunch tray and left his friends at their table, storming out of the cafeteria with his bag slung over one shoulder.

He made his way to the library because he didn’t know where else to go. Instinctively, Arthur sat at his and Merlin’s table in the back, laying out his homework and struggling to focus.

Merlin himself walked in ten minutes later, and, sitting across from Arthur, smiled and asked after his health.

“I saw you storm out of the cafeteria,” the brunet said. “Is something wrong?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. Had a bad morning is all.”

Merlin nodded wisely and took out his own books. “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t study today,” he said. “I’ve got some homework I have to finish before next period.”

The blond nodded in agreement, not feeling up to much conversation anyway.

“Late night?” he asked against his better judgement.

Merlin blushed. “Kind of. Texting all weekend.”

Arthur clenched his jaw and returned his gaze to the pages of his chemistry book, deciding once and for all that he really _did_ fancy Merlin (quite a bit, in fact). He also decided that something must be done about it before he started swooning like a one-dimensional Victorian love interest.

~*~

Percival was at Arthur’s locker when he got there, leaning against it and waiting patiently.

“‘Lo, Arthur,” he greeted. “You all right?”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Tried to talk to you during algebra but you know how Mr. Gaius is.”

“Ha, yeah,” agreed the blond distractedly. “Now move over, yeah? Can’t be late to footie practice.”

“You’re the captain. You can be late, and you know it,” Percival said as Arthur shrugged, bodily moving him out of his way. “Come on, Arthur. Do we really need to have practice today? We don’t have another game until next week.”

“So we should get in a much practice as possible,” Arthur reasoned.

“Yeah, but we don’t really need to practice today. Maybe we could do something, you know, fun! Stop by Nimueh’s on the way home. I’m sure the boys could use some ice cream. Might boost team morale, all that.”

Arthur threw his books in his bag and turned to face his friend. “Percy, what’s going on?” he demanded. “This is ridiculous. Of course we need practice today. If the boys want ice cream, they can get some after practice. You know that.”

Percival nodded, shrugging casually. “All right. Fine. I’m over here because… I fancy your sister and I know she’s a lesbian but I can’t get over her and I ran into her earlier and I need the day off to recuperate from the emotional trauma because I’m royally and totally screwed.”

“Percival,” Arthur replied stoically, “you’re gay. Plus, she thinks you’re a halfwit.”

“Fuck, right. Um.”

“So, why are you lying about fancying my sister?” Arthur asked, sighing again.

“No reason,” Percival replied. “But, um. I do have a problem.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “And that would be…?”

Percival looked extremely uncomfortable for a moment before blurting, “I fancy Gwaine. I fancy Gwaine, and he doesn’t know. I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t know if I should. Should I? I don’t think I should. He probably doesn’t even like me. He probably doesn’t even like men.”

“Percy, Gwaine’s bisexual,” Arthur reminded gently. “He literally likes men and women. He’s told us. He never _stops_ telling us. He came out last year.”

“I know,” Percival said, nodding. “I know. But still, I mean, he could _not_ like me. In that way. He likes me as a friend, but I mean-”

“You really like him, don’t you?” Arthur asked, smiling bemusedly. Percival swallowed hard and nodded decidedly. “You do! You’re completely besotted. You never talk this much.”

Percival shrugged. “Help?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at his fidgety friend. “Yeah, all right. I’ll cut practice short today, and we’ll go to Nimueh’s and, uh, try to figure some stuff out. All right?”

“You’re a fantastic man, Arthur, a really great bloke.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur muttered. “Come on, let’s get to practice, yeah?”

Percival checked his phone for the time before nodding. “Yeah, now should be fine.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow but chose not to ask. He didn’t really need to know anything else.

~*~

Have you picked a poem out yet?

 

_Not yet_

 

It’s been four days already! You’ve had plenty of time.

 

_It’s gotta mean something, yeah?_

 

It doesn’t have to be philosophical or anything, you know. Just one you like, you prat.

 

_It’s not philosophical. It just means something_

 

All right, all right. I can’t wait to hear it.

 

_I can’t wait to show it to you_

 

I wonder if I know it.

 

_I’m not telling you what it is before you read it, you idiot_

 

Aw, come on! Please? You can’t see it but I’m pouting right now.

 

_I’m imagining it and it holds no power over me_

 

This is getting a bit odd now.

 

_A bit_

 

I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Arthur.

 

_Night, Merlin_

~*~

Nervous beyond belief, Arthur sat across from Merlin and presented him with a printed-out copy of his chosen poem. He swallowed hard as Merlin red the title, his eyebrows rising.

“Emily Dickinson?” he asked skeptically. Arthur merely nodded. “I didn’t take you as a Dickinson sort of bloke.”

Arthur shrugged. “Guess you don’t know a man ‘til you read his poetry collection.”

Merlin laughed, and his smile lit up his whole face. “Your collection consists of a single poem.”

“Just read it, will you?” Arthur goaded, rolling his eyes and leaning back. He would freely admit that he was quite eager for Merlin to begin reciting the poem, interested in how the words would sound in his lovely voice, coming from his lovely lips.

 _“If you were coming in the fall,”_ Merlin read, glancing up at Arthur quizzically. “I _really_ didn’t expect a love poem.”

“All right, Merlin, we don’t have all day.”

“Right,” said the other boy, clearing his throat.

Arthur closed his eyes as Merlin began to read.

 

 _If you were coming in the fall,_ __  
_I’d brush the summer by_ __  
_With half a smile and half a spurn,_ __  
_As housewives do a fly._ __  
__  
_If I could see you in a year,_ __  
_I ’d wind the months in balls,_ __  
_And put them each in separate drawers,_ __  
_Until their time befalls._ __  
__  
_If only centuries delayed,_ __  
_I’d count them on my hand,_ __  
_Subtracting till my fingers dropped_ __  
_Into Van Diemen’s land._ __  
__  
_If certain, when this life was out,_ __  
_That yours and mine should be,_ __  
_I ’d toss it yonder like a rind,_ __  
_And taste eternity._ __  
__  
_But now, all ignorant of the length_ __  
_Of time’s uncertain wing,_ __  
_It goads me, like the goblin bee,_   
That will not state its sting.

 

“So, er, Arthur, why’d you choose this one?” Merlin asked, blushing slightly.

“I understand it, what she’s saying, and I feel like that too, but I can’t put it into my own words,” Arthur rambled, knowing that he was making a fool of himself but unable to stop. “But I know what she means when she says she’d throw away the summer to meet her love in the fall and wait for centuries to see them again. It all makes sense, but I can’t, you know, say it clearer than she already has.”

Merlin’s voice was small when he spoke next, and Arthur had the sudden crippling fear that he may have been entirely too hopeful.

“Oh,” the brunet said softly, playing with the edges of the paper, “I hadn’t realized you got over Gwen so quickly.”

“Well, I’ve been over her for a while,” Arthur said, frowning. “I’ve fancied you for a lot longer than just two days.”

Merlin’s blue eyes widened as he looked up at Arthur. “You what?”

“It’s been a week, now,” Arthur continued. “So, it’s reasonable, I think. And I know how Emily feels, so I understand the poem.”

“You fancy _me?”_

Arthur furrowed his brow. “Yeah.”

“I don’t believe you, and I think this is a particularly cruel little trick that is not like you at all, and, frankly, I’ve done nothing to deserve it,” Merlin rambled.

Arthur’s eyes widened as Merlin pushed back his chair, gathering up his books as if he made to leave.

“Merlin, listen to me,” the blond demanded, standing and grabbing one of the straps on the brunet’s bag. “Sit and listen to me, all right? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’ve been trying to figure out how to do this for the last day and a half, and this isn’t how I planned it playing out.”

Merlin swallowed hard, and Arthur’s eyes instinctively followed the movement of the other boy’s pale throat.

“You mean it, then?” the brunet asked, avoiding Arthur’s gaze. “You fancy me?”

“Was that not obvious?” Arthur replied, gesturing towards the poem clutched in Merlin’s hand. “Of course I fancy you. I wouldn’t’ve made a complete idiot of myself otherwise!”

The other boy shook his head frantically as they both took their seats.. “You handed me a love poem and said you knew how the author felt! That’s next to no information!”

Arthur pursed his lips before looking down sheepishly. “I suppose you’re right. But it was supposed to be about you.”

“Maybe you should lead with that next time,” Merlin muttered. He stared at the poem for another moment, his blue eyes moving over the words serenely.

“This is the part where you either brutally reject me or tell me that you’ve been interested in me this whole time and never dreamed of landing such a perfect, handsome boy-”

“Oh, shut it,” Merlin laughed. “Yes, all right. Gwen only told me to ask you about the tutoring because she knows I’ve had a massive crush on you since last year, and-”

“Last year?” Arthur demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, for one, I thought you were straight!” Merlin protested. “I wasn’t gonna walk up to straight-as-an-arrow, captain of the football team Arthur Pendragon and ask him on a date. Do you know what half your team would do to me? Valiant’s never liked me.”

“They won’t even look at you if they know what’s good for themselves,” Arthur replied waspishly. “Don’t worry about them.”

The boys were silent for a moment, neither of them meeting the other’s eye. Arthur slowly unclenched his fists and set them calmly on the table. Absently biting his lip, he stared at his hands as Merlin’s fingers wrapped around his own. The blond startled and, before Merlin could snatch his hand away, tightened his own grip around the pale fingers.

“So the thing with Gwaine,” Merlin began abruptly, staring down at their intertwined hands. Arthur frowned reflexively, remembering Gwaine’s praises at lunch. “The thing with Gwaine wasn’t really a thing. Um. He asked me at Gwen’s party if I was seeing anyone, and I wasn’t, but… I mean, you know. So he figured it out and has been trying to convince me to ask you out for the last two days.”

Arthur nodded slowly as he took in this information. “He might’ve said some things at lunch yesterday that… convinced me to act sooner rather than later.”

Merlin blushed then, ducking his head. “He, uh, told me about that. And you… said what you said. About me.”

Arthur nodded, stroking his thumb along the knuckles in Merlin’s fingers. “I am sorry about that. I didn’t know you knew.”

The other boy nodded back. “I knew. Gwaine and Leon told me after school yesterday.”

“And was Percival meant to keep me busy whilst they harassed you?”

Merlin grinned, then, his eyes crinkling adorably. “He did his job well, then, I see.”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Arthur replied, smiling widely.

“You like it, though,” retorted Merlin.

Arthur leaned over the table and mused, “Wonder what that says about me.”

“Probably that you’re a giant dollophead,” Merlin said easily, his lips just a hair’s width away from Arthur’s, “but I mean, it’s open to interpretation, so you can take it however you like.”

Arthur took a deep breath, screwing up what courage he had left.

“Merlin,” he whispered, “can I kiss you?”

“Well, only since you asked so nicely,” the other boy replied.

Arthur gently pressed his lips against Merlin’s, clutching the other boy’s hand with his own, the other resting on a pale wrist. As the boys kissed, their lips moving together clumsily, Arthur realized two things.

The first was that poetry, he realized now, was not as useless as it had seemed last week. In fact, he rather liked it.

The second was that he rather liked Merlin, too - a lot more than he liked poetry.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't cite any of these poems but most of their titles should be in the fic  
> I wrote zero of them


End file.
